


The One Time There Were No Cases

by RiverSoul



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, justkiddingloveyouall, nopetoolazyfortags, readthefuckingstory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:19:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1448368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverSoul/pseuds/RiverSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock doesn't seem interested in sex. Like at all. But then a client shows up which doesn't seem to have a case, but just the special soemthing which puts the detective in the mood. John is not gay, of course, so you can guess what happens. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Miles <3

“I need some, get me some!“, Sherlock shouted. John looked up from his newspaper in shock. Did Sherlock just ask for…? But when the rant when on, John realized that the detective referred to a case, cigarettes, anything to do but his flatmate. Shame. The doctor had hoped that if his body suddenly decided that it was into men, he could at least be gay in a manly way. Instead, he started to feel like a winy housewife who got a headache while her husband shouted bloody murder. Or no bloody murder, in this case. Sherlock seemed completely uninterested in ‘making John feel like a man again’, though. It was unbelievable that with this brilliant mind of his, the detective still hadn’t realised that there could be another climax of the day – pun intended – than a solved case.

The detective huffed and annoyed John out of his thoughts with this. Yes, Sherlock now seemed to be all too interested in something else than a case: cigarettes. But just before the doctor's mood could go completely down the drain, a potential client arrived.

Henry Knight’s story didn’t sound like a case to John, to be honest, but with Sherlock one never knew. Of course, the detective was behaving utterly impossible again. Seeing how much Henry was still suffering from his father’s death and the memories attached to it, the doctor interfered: “Sherlock!” “What?” “Just try to be nicer...” Sherlock sighed. “Ok Henry, would you PLEASE go on with your story?”, he asked, rolling his eyes. And so Henry went on and on, until he eventually started telling them his late father’s favourite flavour of ice cream and which TV channels he used to watch, facts, which even to John seemed irrelevant.

“Oh, shut up and let’s get it on!”, Sherlock suddenly shouted. 

John and Henry stared at him. “What?”, John finally asked. 

“Oh, come on, John,” the detective said, “if I can’t have cigarettes, I have to have sex, at least. And, as I clearly can’t have sex with you, as you aren’t gay, I’ll have to take Henry” 

Henry gawped at him. “How do you know that I am gay?” 

“Obvious, isn’t it?”, Sherlock snarled. “Now: bedroom or couch?” Henry kept staring at him, open-mouthed.

“Oh, don’t worry about John,” the detective said. “I’m sure he’ll go for a walk to ‘get some air’ or something.” 

John suddenly laughed. “Do you really want to do this, Sherlock? Have you thought this through? It’s not like you have to do this, you know...” 

“I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you think,” Sherlock scowled, “don’t believe everything my brother says.” 

“I’m really flattered,” Henry had finally managed to stop staring, “but, actually, you’re not my type.” 

John and Sherlock stared at him in disbelieve. Had this guy just said the brilliant, absolutely mind-blowingly gorgeous Sherlock Holmes was not his type?

“No offence,” Henry muttered. 

“No offence taken,” the detective replied, “but what’s your type, then?” 

“Um, a bit more muscular, maybe a bit older than you... oh, and I have a thing for the military, uniforms and stuff.” 

Sherlock looked at John. “You got no choice, then.” 

“What?” 

“You will have to join in.” 

“What.” 

“You said that already. Now, my bedroom or yours?” Sherlock started fidgeting, no longer able to sit still. 

“A threesome?”, Henry asked, “that could work...” 

Suddenly, John snapped out of his stupor. “Are you two completely out of your minds!?! For Christ’s sake, Henry, your are obviously not over your father’s death yet and now you want to bloody SHAG. I don’t know what got into you, Sherlock, but you bloody well know that I’m not gay, so I will certainly NOT 'join in’!”

Henry shuddered, liking his lips. Addressing Sherlock, he asked: “Does he do that often? That was kind of hot.” 

The detective smiled. Then he leaned in, kissing Henry full on the lips. Henry kissed back, clutching Sherlock’s neck to pull the detective further down to him. John could only stare in awe. Soon, Henry slightly opened his mouth to let Sherlock’s tongue in and the detective made quick use of the opportunity. The kiss became more passionate, making the detective moan softly. John was still only staring. Even though he knew he should probably do something, leave if nothing else came to mind, he felt completely paralyzed, unable to move. Sherlock’s hands wandered under Henry’s shirt, making it now the other man’s turn to moan.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!”, John suddenly shouted, getting up and pulling off his jumper. The other two men turned round, staring at John this time. “You got me.” John raised his arms in mock-surrender. “I give up.” 

“Feel free to keep on shouting and swearing, John,” Sherlock said and turned his attention back to Henry.

John moved behind Sherlock and started unbuttoning the younger man’s shirt, while the detective kept snogging Henry. John bent down and nuzzled Sherlock’s neck, being rewarded by a loud moan. “You like that, don’t you?”, he whispered into the detective’s ear. The detective hummed approval. Henry now helped getting Sherlock’s shirt off by pulling it out of his trousers. Sherlock, in turn, started pulling on Henry’s jumper, which resulted in a tangle of arms and clothes. John laughed into Sherlock’s neck. “Stop that,” Sherlock hummed, “that tickles.” 

Before John could loose it completely, Sherlock got up, removed his shirt himself and let it fall to the floor. 

Henry looked up at him in amazement. “Wow, you look gorgeous.” 

“Not your type, eh?”, John chuckled. 

Sherlock clucked his tongue in disapproval. “Henry, you’re way too dressed,” he said and made quick process of Henry’s jumper and shirt. “Also not bad,” he mused, running his hands over the other man’s pronounced abs. 

John growled behind them. “You two...”

Suddenly, Sherlock turned around, pushed John against the next wall and snogged him mercilessly. Being surprised like that was nothing for Captain John Watson, though, so he got hold of Sherlock’s chin to slow the kiss down and then nudged the detective’s lips open with his tongue. Entering his flatmate’s mouth with his tongue, John growled again. 

Henry moved behind them and squeezed Sherlock’s ass, making the detective moan with pleasure. He then moved his hands between the two kissing man and started opening Sherlock’s trousers. 

“Wait!”, the detective said, breaking away from the kiss. “John first!”

The doctor frowned. “Why me first?” 

“More layers,” the detective explained, continuing snogging John while opening his trousers completely and pushing them down. Henry laughed and removed his trousers as well. 

Then he returned to Sherlock’s trousers and as expected the detective didn’t wear any pants. When Henry started stroking those amazing cheeks, Sherlock stopped kissing John again. “Bedroom,” he said and the two men in pants followed the gloriously naked detective into his bedroom, John loosing his jumper and undershirt on the way.

The detective’s bedroom was surprisingly tidy, the bed made and the sun shining through the curtains casting it into a dim light. Sherlock started snogging Henry again while lying down onto the bed, pulling the other man on top of him. For a moment, John only enjoyed the sight, then he got out of his pants and lay next to the others. 

He didn’t really know what to do next and just stroked himself for a bit, suddenly nervous. The detective whispered something into Henry’s ear which made the other man chuckle. John started to feel out of place and strangely jealous, but then Henry rolled off Sherlock and between the detective and his flatmate. He turned around to face John and softly touched his cheek. “Sherlock said you’re shy”, Henry said.

“Shy, me?”, John laughed, but even in his ears the laugh didn’t sound genuine. He was freaking nervous, after all, and if he didn’t have a raging erection and what seemed to be his only chance to ‘get some’ from the detective, he would have run a long time ago. 

Henry smiled. “Are you a virgin?”

“What?” 

Sherlock groaned. “Can you make him stop saying that? It drives me crazy!” 

“Shush, Sherlock, we’re having a conversation here,” Henry said. John was impressed. The man had seemed so insecure and… broken before, but now he seemed completely in his element and in control of the situation.

“Listen,” Henry said, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with. I bet Sherlock is more than willing to be on the ‘taking side’, if you know what I mean.”

John swallowed. So Henry meant THAT kind of virgin. “But isn’t he… I mean he probably hasn’t… or do you mean he has…,” he trailed off before his babbling could get any worse. 

Henry frowned, then looked over his shoulder and asked: “Sherlock, did you ever have sex with a man?”

The doctor’s heart almost stopped. He had wondered that for AGES now and that guy just… asked. 

Sherlock laughed. “Of course. Who do you think I am, an imbecile? I know I have a prostate and unlike most other men I know how to get it perfectly stimulated. It usually interferes with The Work and of course having to interact with most people is just so TEDIOUS, but this doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a good pounding.”

John was sure he was going to have a heart attack. Had the detective just said ‘pounding’? 

His shock must have shown on his face, as Henry asked him softly: “Are you alright?”

“I... yes, I’m fine, just a bit much I guess,” John stammered, “And I’m not actually gay, you know.” He bit his tongue. WHY had he just said that?

Henry frowned and pointedly looked down at the doctor’s VERY erect penis. “Your bisexual side is showing, then,” he smirked. “Would it relax you if I kissed you?”

“Yes,” John breathed, before he could change his mind. “Or give my a heart attack,” he thought. 

Henry leaned in and softly brushed his lips against John’s. The doctor kissed back and caught Henry’s lower lip between his. The other man answered this move by sucking on John’s lip. They went on like this, playfully fighting for domination, until Sherlock moved behind Henry and threw a leg over both of them, slowly dry-humping Henry.

Henry broke the kiss and laughed. “You’re like a rabbit, Sherlock.” 

The detective growled. “If you don’t teach the rabbit some manners soon, it will come in your crack and then fuck you until you are raw and bleeding.” 

“Sherlock, that’s disgusting,” John commented, but moaned loudly when the detective suddenly wined his hand between them and brushed it over the doctor’s cock. 

“Oh, there’s something nice and big between your legs which wouldn’t complain if I let you fuck ME raw and bleeding.”

“Shush, Sherlock,” Henry said, “no need for such talk. We will fuck like civilised people and nobody will be bleeding.” 

“You sound like my brother,” Sherlock complained.

Everyone suddenly stilled. “Your brother?”, Henry asked. 

“What? No, not like THAT,” the detective groaned and you could virtually HEAR his eyes rolling. “Not in this context anyway, but can we PLEASE get started now? My balls are turning blue here.”

John laughed. “That can’t be healthy. Can I examine that?”

“Of course,” Sherlock answered, his voice suddenly deeper, “I will need a very thorough examination, doctor Watson. This special part of me hasn’t been in use for AGES now. And you will want to make sure that everything’s still working, I’m sure.”

John swallowed. “Yes, of course.” 

Henry laughed. “Hop over, then”, he said and helped the doctor to climb over him. 

Lying between Sherlock and Henry felt impossibly sexy in itself, but when the detective took John’s hand and moved it between his legs, John wasn’t sure if he could take it. 

Sherlock’s erection was long and thin like everything else about him, slightly curved and already leaking. John unconsciously licked his lips. He then started playing with Sherlock’s balls, first taking one into his hand, then the other. The detective moaned at that and spread his legs. 

That was when John saw Sherlock’s hole for the first time and he became obsessed with it at once. “Mind if I check if everything’s alright with your… rectal area, Sherlock?”, he asked.

“Sure, go ahead,” the detective said. He was breathing hard now, his curls sweatily sticking to his face. 

“You got lube, Sherlock?”, Henry asked. 

“Bedside drawer,” the detective answered, “and John will want a condom too.” 

John heard Henry shuffling behind him, but he was too concentrated on the ‘task at hand’. He moved his free hand over Sherlock’s cock, but hovered there for a moment. “May I…?”

“Of course, go ahead,” Sherlock said.

John touched the head of the detective’s cock first and rubbed it a bit, then took the whole cock into his hand and started slowly stroking it. The detective moaned steadily now and wriggled on the bed, as if it was impossible for him to hold still. He also spread his legs even wider, rubbing John’s erection in the process. 

John could hear Henry chuckle in the background. “You better get to it, guys, or this will be over very soon.” With that he put a tube of lube on Sherlock’s stomach.

The doctor reluctantly removed his hands from Sherlock’s most beautiful parts, picked up the lube and flipped it open. He coated one finger generously in lube and put it back between Sherlock’s legs, softly stroking his entrance. The detective moaned and wriggled even more. “You have to hold still, Sherlock,” John said. 

“Let me help you”, Henry said and climbed over John and on top of Sherlock, his legs on the left and right of the detective’s hips and hovering over him so that their cocks were just barely touching. 

Sherlock at once tried to get his hands between them to rub their cocks together properly, but Henry took both of his hands and held them above the detective’s head. Then he started snogging Sherlock again, occupying the detective so that John could ‘do his work’.

The doctor took a moment to tear his gaze off the two of them but then started massaging the detective’s hole again until it was relaxed enough to insert a finger. Sherlock was tight, but after a while John could start moving his finger. This felt amazing. He slowly rutted against the detective’s leg while inserting a second finger. After moving it in and out a few times, he inserted a third. This went better then expected, almost as if…

John suddenly stopped in his administrations. He looked up to ask Sherlock if he already HAD prepared himself, but got distracted by Henry’s ass moving rhythmically up and down. Both, Sherlock and Henry, were moaning loudly, neither of them seeming to realize what John was doing.

The doctor swallowed. Right. Not gay. He was totally not gay. He chuckled to himself, then decided to sod it all. If gay or not, he would fuck his flatmate up the ass now and then maybe have his client suck him off. Or fuck him too, he wasn’t sure about this yet. Either way, this would include a lot of sperm and manly shouting and dicks rubbing together. Straight was on holiday.

Before John could change his mind again, he picked up the condom package from where Henry had dropped it on the bed, tore it open and rolled it on. Then he positioned himself behind Sherlock and between his legs. He took himself in hand and slowly pushed into the detective. At first there was a bit of resistance but then he was all in.

“Ooooh,” Sherlock moaned, “god, John, you’re big.” 

The doctor chuckled. Now he was suddenly interesting again! “Ready for me to move?”, he asked.

“God yes,” Sherlock answered. 

John experimentally pulled out a bit and back in, holding on to the detective’s hips.

“Come on, I’m not made of sugar,” the detective complained. 

John put both of the detective’s legs over his shoulders to get a better angle and then started moving in earnest. He was rewarded with a loud moan from Sherlock. 

Henry suddenly sat up and moved up, positioning himself directly over Sherlock’s face. “Want to give John a bit of a show while he’s doing all the work?”, he asked and nudged the detective’s lips with his cock.

Sherlock opened his mouth obediently and Henry pushed his cock as far inside as it would go. Which admittedly was quite far. 

“Oh fuck,” John said. He couldn’t see all of the detective’s face that way, but what he could see was breathtaking. 

Realizing that he had forgotten to move, the doctor started to slowly fuck into the detective again, watching how Henry did the same with Sherlock’s mouth. The detective didn’t seem to have any objections to being that passive but simply held onto the headboard, his erection slightly bouncing with John’s movement. 

The doctor was no longer able to hold himself back, but increased his rhythm, making Sherlock moan even louder round Henry’s cock. Henry’s movements also became more erratic, as he fucked into the detective’s mouth faster and faster. 

“So good”, he said, “still the cock slut, Sherlock?” 

John’s brain vaguely registered that the ‘still’ in this sentence was kind of strange, but he was already too much gone to care. He drove deep into Sherlock a few more times and then came, shouting his release. 

Henry followed quickly after, making Sherlock choke. Coughing, the detective demanded: “Put your fingers inside of me, John, I’m almost there.”

The doctor only hesitated for a second, then pulled out and pushing three fingers into Sherlock’s hole. After a bit of fumbling, he found the prostate and just rubbed it a few times. Sherlock shouted his name and his cock twitched and shot sperm all over the detective’s belly without even have been touched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the apprupt ending, but just shout if you want more! Theoretically I have no time for this, but practically I will totally write more! XD


	2. Chapter 2

John woke up in a tangle of limbs. It took him a moment to remember what had happened a few hours ago. Hours? He lifted his head to look at the alarm clock standing on Sherlock’s night stand. Yup, he had slept for 4 hours straight and Sherlock and Henry were still peacefully asleep. The doctor looked down on his innocently sleeping flatmate. The idiot. He could have just TOLD him that he wanted this and John would have given it to him AGES ago. Well, probably wouldn’t have been that spectacular without their third participant.

John slightly turned around to look at Henry who was… sucking on his thumb in his sleep. The doctor’s cock started to twitch. Sucking, right, something else he wanted Sherlock to do. Then he remembered what Henry had said: “Still the cock slut, Sherlock.” STILL. Why still? Why on earth still? Had Henry and Sherlock done this before? Had they PLANNED this? 

Suddenly, John couldn’t lie still anymore. But getting out of bed proved to be not that easy either. At first, he got up on his knees and tried climbing over Sherlock, but the detective moved, so that John ended up on top of him. When John tried moving again to get away from the detective and out of bed, Sherlock put his arms around him. After managing to detach himself from the detective again, John decided that climbing over Henry might be the easier way, but the moment he was over Sherlock’s ‘client’, Henry opened his eyes.

“Hello there,” Henry smiled. John mumbled something about having to go to the bathroom and tried to flee, but Henry suddenly put both of his hands on the doctor’s hips, holding him in place. “Just stay for a bit,” Henry said, “You’re a nice sight first thing after waking up. And I don’t know about you, but I got quite a bit of morning wood.” 

Suddenly, all of John’s worries went out of the window. He could shout at Sherlock later if necessary. Or be embarrassed or whatever the situation required.

“Want me to wank you?”, he asked. 

“Nice thought,” Henry answered, “but I’d rather fuck.”

John swallowed hard. “You want to fuck me?”

Henry laughed and stretched like a cat, letting go of the doctor’s hips. “Thanks for the offer, mate, but I’m a rather amazing bottom, if you don’t mind.” 

“Sure,” John said, realizing he was turning red in the face.

“Hey, no worries,” Henry assured him, “just relax, I’ll show you how.” With that he put his hands on John’s back and softly nudged him down so that they were almost lying on top of each other, their cocks trapped between them. 

It felt amazing. John had always enjoyed sex, but somehow this was different. With women, he had always felt responsible for their pleasure, but with Henry he could just… let it happen. 

“Wanna kiss?”, Henry asked.

The doctor didn’t need to be asked twice. He dived down and caught the other man’s lower lip between his teeth. Even kissing was different. More teeth, more tongue… just more, really. Of course he had kissed women like that, but he had always had to make sure of wasn’t too rough for them or something. 

John rutted against Henry while snogging him properly this time. God, the man knew how to use his tongue! And rutting felt great too. Something else he could never do properly with a woman. Sometimes John didn’t mind not being ‘inside’; there were a lot of beautiful places on a woman’s (or man’s) body he could come. But women usually didn’t understand that. With Henry, though, John could let his inner animal out. And cock rubbing against cock was just amazing. Maybe this could even be enough for him to…

“Want to sneak an orgasm there, John?”, a voice startled him out of his thoughts. 

The doctor looked up and pale blue eyes met his. For how long had Sherlock been awake? Suddenly, John felt very self conscious. He had never been ‘watched’ before. He hadn’t even joined in any kind of mutual wanking in his youth, always self-conscious about his body and his stamina. In the army, this ‘shyness’ had receded a bit, of course, as wanking in the dormitory was more often than not the only possibility to get release; and most of the other guys didn’t always manage to stay completely quiet either. 

This was different, though. John was certain once more that the detective could look straight into his soul. Strangely enough, this didn’t make him less aroused, but he was certain he couldn’t come like that. He once had a girlfriend who had stared at him like that during sex. His release had never seemed further away. 

“You’re making him nervous, Sherlock,” Henry said. 

The detective huffed. “Not nervous enough to stop humping you.”

“Are you jealous?”, Henry asked, “Cause he’s gonna spray his cum all over me and not on you?” 

“I’m sure I’ll have enough left for you later, Sherlock,” John said without thinking. Darn, why couldn’t he just shut it these days? He bit his lip.

Henry softly stroked his cheek and said: “Don’t be ashamed, beautiful. Nobody here cares what you’re into. You can ask us to do whatever you want to and I’m sure if I don’t like it, Sherlock most certainly will.”

The detective huffed again. “I’m not that bad.”

Henry laughed. “Oh, you remember that one time when I was sitting on your lap and really had to go and you told me to just pee ON you.” 

Sherlock actually turned scarlet at that. “This was one time.”

John really wasn’t into water sports but this sounded kind of… hot. “How did it end?”, he asked.

“Well,” Henry said, “I actually got my cock out and peed on his suit trousers. Made him come in his pants.”

John moaned and increased his rhythm. “Wish I could have seen that.” Sherlock coming in one of his expensive suits; must have been a sight! 

“Yea, he has this amazing ability to come without touching,” Henry remarked.

John moaned louder and came all over Henry’s erect cock, which in turn made the other man loose his ability to control himself. He put his hand between them and quickly jerked himself off, shouting as he came. 

Before John could even recover, the detective had wiggled himself between the two of them. 

“Sherlock, what are you…?”, he started, but cut off by the detective. “You promised me some sperm, remember.”

“Yes, but my recovery period isn’t zero, Sherlock.” 

“No, but there’s sperm here,” the detective explained.

“He’s a freak” Henry said, “but I’m sure you’re used to that.”

“Not to this special kind of freakiness,” John had to admit, “and I think he prefers highly functioning sociopath.” 

“Put your legs together,” Sherlock told Henry.

The other man groaned. “Just be patient for once, and you’ll get what you want.” 

“Put I want it NOW,” the detective complained. 

Henry sighed. “What do YOU want, John? Maybe it’ll be easier asking you. Got any special positions in mind?”

The doctor swallowed. He really didn’t know what to say to that. Sherlock’s bum starting to move rhythmically under him didn’t help his thinking process. “I always kinda liked rutting.” Right. Could he be any more obvious? Next thing he would tell them he liked blow jobs and sex.

“On which part of me do you want to come?”, Sherlock asked. Rely on him to read John’s thoughts.

“Your ass”, the doctor said before he could second guess himself. 

“Want us to teach you how to give head before that?”, Henry asked, “Our detective is getting a bit impatient.”

John thought of Sherlock’s cock and if his heterosexuality had been on vacation before it was now officially retired. Sod it, he wanted to suck the hell out of that cock! 

“Sure,” he said, his voice hoarse . 

“Ok, Sherlock, on your back”, Henry said and John’s eyes went wide with the speed at which the detective complied. His cock was so hard it had to be close to hurting. Strangely enough, this made the doctor’s mouth water. Since when did he have such an appetite for cock? And cum as dessert… He unconsciously licked his lips.

“Ok,” Henry said, “just get between his legs, John, and I’ll give you instructions. Sherlock, you concentrate on the moaning; I think it’s safe to say that this voice of yours drives everybody here crazy.” 

“Oh God, yes,” John said and climbed between the detective’s legs.

“Just stick your tongue out and taste him first,” Henry said. 

John complied. The tip of Sherlock’s cock tasted slightly salty. But not bad, actually. 

“Ok, now lick down his shaft,” Henry instructed, “best hold it in place with one hand.”

John did that and was rewarded by a loud moan. He could already feel himself grow hard again. 

“Run your tongue up and down his shaft for a bit and pay special attention to the tip.”

The doctor did this and pulled the foreskin back in the process. Sherlock was already leaking and John became kind of obsessed with licking the pre-come off. 

Sherlock was by now steadily moaning and trying to push up, so that John had to hold him down by putting his right arm over the detective’s hip.

Before this could get out of hand, Henry instructed: “Now put him into your mouth. You don’t have to take much, at first, just try to get used to the feeling.”

John did that, just taking the tip of Sherlock’s cock into his mouth, making the detective swear. John had never heard Sherlock swear before. He experimentally sucked more of the detective’s cock into his mouth and was rewarded by a loud moan.

“Looks like you’re a natural,” Henry chuckled.

The doctor tried to take even more into his mouth but chocked. “Careful,” Sherlock warned, “don’t hurt yourself. Not even Henry manages all of it.” 

John almost chocked again, hearing that. He had just come – maybe 10 minutes ago? – and yet he didn’t think he had ever been harder in his life. He sucked Sherlock harder, making sure not to take more than he was capable of, then started bobbing his head up and down, letting the detective’s cock slide in and out of his mouth. Henry and Sherlock were both moaning now.

John risked a glimpse up into the detective’s face and almost chocked again. “Pull yourself together,” he told himself, “Of course he looks even more gorgeous like that, mouth slightly open, moaning like hell, with his eyes half closed, but don’t forget your task at hand. You want to make him come, right?”

“Right,” Henry said between moans. John could hear the wet sounds of him wanking now. “If you feel confident with it, remove your hand from his cock and play with his balls for a bit. He really likes that.”

John only hesitated for a second, then grabbed Sherlock’s sack, harder then intended. Sherlock gasped, then suddenly went stiff. For a moment John thought he had hurt him but then come flooded his mouth. 

After he had swallowed everything down, he pulled off and went up on his knees, wanking furiously. 

“Wait,” Henry said, moving behind him. The other man pressed himself against him, moaning loudly. 

To his surprise, Sherlock took the initiative and turned around, getting on his hands and knees. 

John hesitated, but the detective barked: “Come on, John. You said you want to come on my arse. Get on with it then, I won’t stay like this forever!” 

The doctor moaned, moving his hand on his cock as quickly as he could. Almost there. One hand snaked around him, tugging at his balls. And there he was!

John came with a shout, painting Sherlock’s bum with his sperm. Behind him, Henry reached his climax too and came against John’s ass in turn. 

After that, they just slumped against each other, unwilling to move, until Sherlock complained: “This is really getting uncomfortable, you know?” 

“Oh, sorry,” John said and Henry got up, while the doctor sat up on the bed. At first, John thought their visit was going to leave, but then Henry returned with a couple of damp flannels. 

When they were more or less cleaned up, they went back into their position of tangled limbs, this time with Sherlock in the middle. Strangely enough, tea and dinner – it was dinner time right? – weren’t even a priority for John. He felt completely satisfied. 

After a few minutes of silence and post-coitus cuddling, the doctor asked: “So for how long has this been going on between you two?”

“Oh, on and off, really,” Henry said, “Not since you two met, though.”

“Didn’t seem appropriate, somehow,” the detective mumbled.

“Appropriate?”, John asked. 

“Shagging him behind your back,” Sherlock explained, “had to wait until you were ready to join in.”

“Ready to join in?”, the doctor asked. 

“Of course,” the detective huffed, “wouldn’t want you to get jealous. And all I want now is shout your name during sex, so it just seemed fitting that you were actually there.”

John hesitated, then said: “Well, you make me want to shout your name, too, so yea, very fitting.”

Henry chuckled. “You two.” 

The doctor cleared his throat and changed the topic: “There isn’t really a case, is there?”

“There was,” the detective said, “I’ve solved it for him a few years ago. That’s how we met.”

“I’m an actor,” Henry explained, “so it wasn’t too hard to pretend I was still upset about my father’s death.”

“Not too hard to fool me, you mean,” John said, but he wasn’t really angry. More concerned how many rounds of this he would be able to take until he had a heart attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> actually trying to bring a bit of fluff into this story... maybe even PLOT who knows XD


End file.
